


The Love of Family

by Celandine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: daily_deviant, Cross-Generation Relationship, Dirty Talk, First Time, Incest, Infidelity, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-05
Updated: 2010-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-14 18:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celandine/pseuds/Celandine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius enlists Al's help to seduce the illicit object of his affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love of Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elfflame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/gifts).



"How would you go after someone you liked, but who you were sure wouldn't fancy you back?"

Scorpius posed the question to his dorm mate and best friend, Al, near the beginning of their seventh year when they happened to be alone in their room, their other dorm mates all having gone to a meeting of the Wizarding Chess Club.

Al looked thoughtful. But then, he usually did, with those spectacles. They didn't stop him being the Ravenclaw Seeker though, and the best Seeker that Hogwarts had seen since his dad. "Who is it, and why do you think they wouldn't fancy you?"

"I'd rather not say," evaded Scorpius. "Someone older, not in school now." Which was an understatement. "A bloke I've seen at my parents' Christmas parties. With a different partner every year, so it's not like I'd be trying to break up something permanent. All I want is to shag him."

Since Scorpius had told Al two years ago that he was gay, Al didn't bat an eye at the fact that Scorpius's object of desire was another man. "If he isn't in a long-term relationship, why don't you think you have a chance? Too young?"

"That, yeah, plus all the men I've seen him with have looked more like you than me. You know, with a medium build and dark hair, not tall and skinny and pale like I am." Scorpius pushed back his fair hair.

"Hmm. So you just want to get this bloke to have sex with you, right? You don't want anything more long-term?"

"That's right." Scorpius swallowed. "I've been thinking about him for ages."

"Ha, _that_ means for two weeks, with you."

Scorpius didn't correct him. It really _had_ been years since he'd first thought about going to bed with this particular man, but he didn't want Al to have any excuse to inquire again about his identity.

"So this bloke comes to your parents' parties each year, and you say it's always with someone different. But he always comes with _someone_?" Al asked.

"He seems to," Scorpius agreed.

"That will make it trickier." Al whistled through his teeth. "The problem as I see it breaks down into several parts. First, you'll have to disguise yourself somehow, both because you don't seem to be his physical type, and because you probably don't want him to recognise that you're the Malfoys' son, even if you _are_ of age now. Second, you'll have to find some line of chat that will persuade him to go to bed with you, either right there and then at the party—although presumably in some other room—or at a later time in another place, Finally, you'll probably have to somehow get whoever his current partner is out of the way so as to give yourself a chance to carry out the seduction unimpeded. That's a tall order." He whistled again. "A physical disguise is necessary, but you're also going to have to think up a good cover story. Your parents' parties are probably pretty exclusive, so nearly everyone will know each other."

"That's true," Scorpius agreed. "I hadn't thought of that, but you're absolutely right."

"Does it have to be at your own parents' that you do this?"

"I suppose it doesn't _have_ to be," said Scorpius. "But that seemed like the easiest place, since I know the house and could easily get in to the party itself."

"If there are other opportunities..." Al was clearly thinking aloud. "That would help in a couple of respects. You could chat him up at a couple of different parties, flirt with him and leave him wanting to get to know you better, and then make your move. Plus that would give you a chance to find out for sure who his current partner is, and take steps to get him out of the way somehow. The downside would be that you'd have to have a _really_ good story to explain who you were and what you were doing there at all these parties, and you'd have to be willing to disguise yourself repeatedly."

Scorpius mulled it over. "I suppose I could find out when some of my parents' friends' Christmas parties are, and crash those." He narrowly avoided saying the name of the man. " _He_ would be there, too. And I was thinking Polyjuice for the disguise. I remember that story you told me that you said your dad told you, about how he and your uncle Ron fooled my dad once, and then there was that fellow who pretended to be Auror Moody for nearly a whole year before he was found out."

"Polyjuice should do the trick," Al agreed. "You'll have to decide whose hair or whatever to use, though, and be sure to have enough of it."

"How about yours?" asked Scorpius.

Al blinked. " _Mine_?"

"Sure. You're physically the type he likes, from what I can tell. Maybe on the young side, but expression can do a lot with that."

"Wouldn't he recognise me?" Al protested. "Everyone says I look just like my dad, and his is not exactly an unknown face."

"You just don't want me to use your identity in case anyone thinks you're gay," Scorpius joked. "Okay, okay, just kidding. You're probably right, you'd be too recognisable."

"I think Algie would be good," said Al. Algernon Longbottom was another of their roommates, who played as one of the Ravenclaw Beaters. "He has dark hair, too, and he's more muscular than me, and less young-looking. You could take some hairs out of his brush."

Scorpius considered it. Algie _did_ look older than Al, and Scorpius wouldn't mind borrowing Algie's appearance, he supposed. "Yeah, I don't think _he_ would be likely to recognise Algie. The Longbottoms don't move in my parents' social circle. So that could work."

"Then you'd better start brewing the Polyjuice Potion. It takes a month, remember, since you have to pick the fluxweed at the full moon."

"I know, I know." They had had to brew a batch in fifth year. Scorpius remembered with distaste drinking the nasty stuff. That was the down side of using it, but the result should be worth the trouble, _if_ Scorpius succeeded anyhow. "I'll start tonight. I have plenty of lacewing flies to begin with."

"Want some help?"

"Sure. You can help me think up a good cover story, too. If I have it all worked out well ahead of time, I can rehearse it enough that I won't slip up when the time comes."

By the end of September, Scorpius had concocted a story about being a distant cousin of the Lovegoods. He picked them in case someone noticed a family resemblance, since Algie's mum had been a Lovegood, and decided he was from a branch of the family that had emigrated to Canada in the nineteenth century. He chose the name Sebastian Marbot as his alias. He would pretend to have come over to England for an apprenticeship in manufacturing and repairing magical equipment.

"You'll need to practise a Canadian accent," Al pointed out one evening when they were checking on the progress of the Polyjuice Potion.

"But there's no one at Hogwarts from Canada," said Scorpius, giving the cauldron a final stir. "How am I going to manage that?"

"Get some films or something." Al said it in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Films? You mean like Muggle films?"

"Yes. In Muggle Studies we've learned how to use computers and the internet. Muggles sell all kinds of stuff online; you just put in the order and a credit card number, and they ship it right to you. Professor Kirke taught us how we can Confund their systems so that if you have an account with Gringotts, the company will be paid by them without alerting the Muggle banks. I haven't figured out exactly _how_ it works, but it does. So all you have to do is find an online shop that sells films, and check to make sure that they're Canadian. There's even a Muggle DVD-playing machine in that classroom and I book some time in there, an evening or two a week," Al finished breathlessly.

Al's knowledge impressed Scorpius. "Show me how to find these films."

The computer was not too difficult to master, he discovered. He hadn't taken Muggle Studies because he knew his parents would disapprove, but now he rather regretted that decision as he was sure he could easily have earned an "E" in both O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in that subject. Al showed him several websites that sold films on DVD, and he was able with little trouble to find half a dozen that were Canadian.

He didn't find the films terribly interesting as films, which was probably just as well. He watched simply to pick up the accent, which he then practised on Al whenever the two of them were alone.

"You're trying too hard," said Al after a while. "Relax. Don't say 'eh' every other sentence—it sounds phony."

Scorpius sighed. "This isn't going to work."

"Yes it will," said Al. "Surely you aren't going to give up this easily? I thought you said you really fancied this bloke, whoever he is."

"I do, I do. All right, I'll keep working on it."

Scorpius hadn't missed the hints that Al had given that he would like to know just who it was Scorpius was going after. And had it been—well, just about _anyone_ else, really, than who it was—Scorpius might well have eventually given and told him.

Not even to his best friend was he prepared to admit that the man he planned to seduce was his own father.

There were Muggle laws against incest, he knew, but he had done some discreet reading in both the Hogwarts library and the library at Malfoy Manor itself, which was well-stocked with Wizarding legal tomes. As far as he could tell, there was no prohibition in the Wizarding world—no legal one, at any rate, although it was not exactly customary to consider it an acceptable practise, either.

He wasn't certain whether it would bother his father or not. Since Scorpius had realised that he wasn't the physical type his father found attractive, and that he would have to disguise himself, he now planned for his father never to find out at all that he had taken his own son to bed. He figured that if he was the one who instigated things, no one could take his father to task for having misused his paternal authority.

Scorpius had grown up understanding that although his parents were friendly toward each other, neither found the other especially sexually attractive. Each of them on a regular basis had "special friends," who sometimes stayed the night and were introduced to Scorpius the next morning at the breakfast table. It had all seemed very natural, simply the way things were, when Scorpius was small, and it had taken him some years to realise first that not everyone's parents behaved this way, and second that all of the "special friends" were male, mostly dark-haired men. As he grew older, he realised that this must mean that his father had strongly homosexual leanings, despite having married and fathered Scorpius himself. It was interesting, too, that apparently both Scorpius's parents found the same type of man to be attractive. Once or twice the same man appeared first with one parent, and then some time later with the other.

His parents' unconventional approach to marriage notwithstanding, Scorpius didn't think that his father likely to accept being knowingly seduced by his own son.

Scorpius hardly knew himself why he found his father so powerfully attractive. Draco Malfoy did not have the same commanding presence that his father Lucius had, an aura of power that Scorpius found intimidating. But Draco was handsome in a world-weary way, still tall and slim and sleek, his chiselled aristocratic features scarcely touched by any lines of age, although his hair had begun to thin.

Perhaps the source of his attraction was the sense Scorpius had that his father possessed a core of energy hidden behind the carefully constructed facade, that he did live up to his name. Scorpius longed to rouse the sleeping dragon he felt sure lay concealed in his father.

He dared tell none of this to anyone, not even to Al, who would probably be horrified. Al was more daring than the average Ravenclaw—not surprising given that his parents and siblings were all Gryffindors—but he was essentially straight-laced at heart when it came to questions of sexuality and morality. He had no issues with Scorpius being gay, but the seduction of a parent would be well outside of his comfort zone.

The Polyjuice Potion was complete by November, well ahead of time. Scorpius made progress in his attempts at imitating a Canadian accent, until Al one day said he thought that was as good as Scorpius was likely to get, and certainly ought to be good enough to fool a stranger. Scorpius had even managed to learn from his mother when several of their friends' holiday parties were to be, and thus was able to plan his strategy with Al's assistance.

"What I would do..." Al looked at the list of dates and places. "I think I would go to the Zabinis' party and try to get into casual conversation with your bloke there, flirt some but not too much, and also try to learn the name of his current partner. Then at the Averys', smile and say hello and maybe catch his eye a few times, but otherwise stay further away, talk and flirt a bit with other men instead. Wait till the night of your own parents' party to go for the full-blown seduction. If it doesn't seem to be working that night, you could try again at the Notts', but that would probably be your last chance."

Scorpius nodded. "I've thought of something that ought to keep his partner in bed with a terrible head cold for three days, which would put him out of the way for both my parents' and the Notts' parties."

"How are you going to do that?" Al inquired

"Simple." Scorpius grinned. "I'll send him a parcel that appears to be from my bloke, his lover, with a note telling him that this isn't a Christmas present and please to open it immediately. I'll put something suitable in it—a pair of fine dragon-hide gloves perhaps—but anointed with a potion that will give him a nasty if temporary cold. Potions was always one of my dad's best subjects, and I have his old books."

There was really a delicious irony in the idea that he would be using one of his dad's recipes to forward the cause of his seduction, Scorpius thought. He'd never cared that much that he had been sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin—in fact that been what had first brought himself and Al together as friends, since Al had been expected to become a Gryffindor—except of course that it disappointed his parents. Perhaps he would have made a good Slytherin after all.

On the train ride home, all Scorpius could think about was the flask of Polyjuice in his trunk. He hoped he had brewed enough; it was only supposed to take a sip every hour to maintain the disguise, and he had practised with it, finding out that although the initial transformation was quite painful, second and later sips merely maintained his appearance. There was no further wrenching of skin and bone. Unfortunately there was also no cumulative effect. If he took a sip, then another half an hour later, the potion would wear off an hour after the second sip. Disappointing, but good to know for certain.

Platform 9 3/4 was crowded as ever with families greeting students.

"Good luck," said Al as they stepped off the train. "I want to know if this works, mind you; and not to have to wait until next term, either. Send me an owl."

"I will," promised Scorpius. "Here come our parents."

The Potters had already found Lily, and had her in tow as they came up to Al. His older brother James was nowhere to be seen, which surprised Scorpius until he remembered that Al had told him that James had a job at St. Mungo's, and was sharing a flat with someone, so he probably was at work.

"Hello, darling."

Scorpius turned to see his own parents, his mother with her arms outstretched to embrace him. He submitted to it, less embarrassed than he might have been since most of the other mums were doing the same.

"Good to see you, Scorpius." His father grasped his hand and clapped him on the shoulder. "I believe you've grown another inch or two, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir, I have," said Scorpius, sternly repressing his body's reaction to his father's touch.

He saw Draco nod, a little tight-lipped, at the Potters. Neither set of parents had been overjoyed by their sons' friendship. Mr and Mrs Potter nodded back before herding Al and Lily toward the exit.

Scorpius saw that his father's gaze lingered on the Potters' retreating forms, and abruptly it occurred to him that physically Harry Potter was very much the type that his father preferred. He wondered if there had ever been anything between them, or if his father had even wanted that. They had been in school together, Scorpius knew, but had been far from friends, although Draco acknowledged his debt to Harry Potter for saving his life during the Battle of Hogwarts.

All that was old history, though. Scorpius found a trolley for his trunk.

"Shall we go?"

He made sure to tell the house elf, Tuppy, that he would unpack his trunk himself, most of it at least, and not to touch it until he said it was all right.

She looked surprised, but obeyed, as he had known she would.

He hid the Polyjuice Potion under a pile of rarely-worn jumpers in the lowest drawer of his bureau, and went down to dinner with his parents.

"We'll eat with your grandparents tonight," his father said. "They want to see you, too."

That was to be expected. Malfoy Manor was large enough that his parents and his grandparents occupied separate wings, each with its own dining room and parlours as well as bedrooms, but Scorpius's family ate with the elder Malfoys at least twice a week.

"How are they?" Scorpius asked.

"Very much as usual," said his mother. Her voice was dry. She never _said_ anything against her parents-in-law, but Scorpius had understood for years that she was not terribly fond of them, and would have preferred to live elsewhere were it not that Draco was required by the provisions of his grandfather Abraxas's will to reside on the family estate in order to inherit.

"They're well," Draco said quickly. "Your grandmother has taken up knitting lace, of all things. There are doilies and antimacassars everywhere now."

"I'll be sure to compliment her on them, then," said Scorpius.

Dinner was much as always. The conversation was somewhat stilted, all of the adults seeming glad to have Scorpius there so that they could ask how his N.E.W.T. year was going, and remark upon his still-increasing height.

"I daresay you will outstrip your father," said his grandfather with an air of satisfaction. "Next year, when you are finished with school, you will start coming with me to board meetings. the family must continue to be represented properly."

Scorpius nodded acknowledgment, but kept quiet. He had no more interest in sitting in stuffy meetings than his father had. In fact, his hope was to apprentice as an apothecary. Potions had always been his favourite subject, and he knew he would be bored out of his mind if he didn't have something regular to keep him occupied. He would have to talk with his father and mother about that soon, he knew, but he thought he would put it off until after he had received his marks for his N.E.W.T.s. Although he was reasonably confident that he would do more than well enough to secure an apprenticeship, best not to get into any arguments until it was necessary. He did remember to praise his grandmother's doilies, several of which adorned the table, and received fond smiles from her in return.

After dinner he read a book, a story that Al had recommended about some strange creatures called hobbits, while his parents engaged in desultory conversation. Evidently neither of them was meeting a "special friend" that night.

His mother mentioned the Zabinis' party, saying that she needed to get a new gown for the occasion. "One of last year's might do for the Averys', but Blaise and Paolina are always so fashionable."

"If you like, dear. I was thinking—we might take Scorpius with us this year," said his father.

"What?" Scorpius sat up straight, his book falling to the sofa next to him. If his parents made him attend these parties in his own person, all of his plans would be ruined.

"He'll just be bored, Draco," said his mother. "He's still in school, after all; next year will be soon enough."

"I suppose," said Draco. "Next year, then. Although I think we need to have more young people at these dos. Maintain the tradition."

Scorpius had a crawling suspicion that his mother objected to his attendance not because she really thought he would be bored—she made him do plenty of other equally dull things, after all—but because having a nearly-grown son along would underline her own age. Whatever her reasons, however, he was happy for her support.

A couple of days later, he used some of his precious Polyjuice to take on Algie's appearance and went to Madam Malkin's to purchase dress robes that would fit Algie's frame and flatter his colouring.

That necessary purchase made, Scorpius decided to indulge in another—a Christmas gift to himself. He slipped down one of the side streets off Diagon Alley and went into a shop that didn't look like one. It appeared to be an ordinary flat with a buzzer marked "Wilde". When he pressed the button, a disembodied voice asked, "Yes?"

Scorpius licked his lips and said, "Oscar sent me."

The door opened and Scorpius was admitted to the only gay Wizarding sex shop in Britain. He didn't dare to stay long, nor venture past the first room, but he found a bottle of lubricant that promised the slickest sensation he'd ever felt, and, feeling greatly daring, chose a pair of anal plugs in two sizes. The shop assistant recommended that he begin with the smaller one and work his way up, particularly if he planned to leave the plug in for any extended period.

Before leaving, Scorpius allowed his name to be placed on a mailing list; the shop promised that all its advertisements, as well as any purchases, would be discreetly wrapped. Scorpius thought he might order some magazines, once he was back at school.

On the night of the Zabinis' party, Scorpius pretended to be engrossed in his just-arrived copy of _Which Broomstick_ when his parents were ready to leave. He waved them a casual goodbye without looking up. As soon as they were gone, however, he sprang into action.

He hurried to dose himself with Polyjuice, shuddering at the taste and wincing as his body shrank and contorted into Algie's appearance. He put on the deep scarlet velvet robes he'd bought at Madam Malkin's and checked his appearance in the mirror. He had also remembered to buy some cologne that was different from what his grandmother Narcissa had given him last Christmas, so that he would not even smell like himself, if his father paid any attention to that. His shoes, freshly polished by Tuppy, were ordinary enough that he didn't fear being them being recognised. Luckily he and Algie wore the same shoe size.

His toilet complete, Scorpius concentrated hard to Apparate to the front of the Zabinis' house. He had only been there once or twice before. Several other guests arrived at nearly the same moment, so he went in with them.

"Would sir like a drink?"

Scorpius looked down at the house-elf and thought quickly. He didn't dare get intoxicated. He might lose track of time and fail to take his next sip of Polyjuice on schedule. His flask of it nestled in a pocket.

"Tonic water. With a twist of lime," he said. That ought to look like an appropriately adult drink.

The house-elf bowed, winked out, and winked back in a moment later with a glass on the tray raised high above its head.

"The drink for sir," it squeaked, and Scorpius took the glass.

Too late he realised that most of the other guests were drinking wine. Well, he could have this and then think of something else. Perhaps he could quietly ask for pomegranate juice in a wine glass.

He felt awkward standing by himself, and decided he had better move around the room and see if he could talk with people. He didn't want to try to strike up a conversation with his father right away, although he could see Draco in another corner of the large reception room, next to Nigel, his current "special friend". Looking around, Scorpius realised that most of the guests were ten years or more older than he. There was just a sprinkling of younger folk. Perhaps he would try easing into conversation with someone closer to his own age first, although he would have to be careful not to pick someone he knew, lest he accidentally let slip his real identity.

He had spotted someone likely, and was moving in that direction when an older wizard intercepted him.

"Excuse me, but would you happen to be Luna Lovegood's son?"

 _Oh, no._

Scorpius turned to face the other man, and was relieved in a small way to see that he was being peered at short-sightedly.

Remembering to put on his Canadian accent, he said politely, "No, sir, although some of my ancestors were Lovegoods, so there may be a family resemblance. My name is Sebastian Marbot."

"Well, I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, young man. I'm Percy Weasley."

Scorpius shook his hand. He was surprised to find a Weasley at the Zabinis' party, although come to think of it, he remembered his father mentioning that this particular Weasley was a reliable Ministry fellow, and of course the Weasleys _were_ purebloods. Even if that wasn't supposed to matter anymore—and it didn't, to Scorpius, or Al wouldn't be his best friend—some of the older generation still cared.

"Nice to meet you, too."

"You're from abroad, aren't you?" Percy asked him.

"Yes. From Winnipeg. I'm here to do an apprenticeship in creating and repairing magical equipment," said Scorpius.

"An excellent career." Percy nodded. "I've dealt with magical objects quite a bit myself, although from a trade standpoint, not production. Flying carpets, cauldrons, that sort of thing. Canadian cauldrons are top-quality, you know? Never any question of them being below regulation thickness."

Scorpius endured some minutes of Percy going on about cauldron bottoms before they were joined by Percy's wife Audrey, who changed the subject to the weather, much to Scorpius's relief. He had had the sense to read up on the climate of Winnipeg, so it was a topic on which he felt reasonably secure.

Eventually he managed to extricate himself from the Weasleys and start moving in his father's general direction. He gave his father several openly appreciative glances, and thought he detected some interest in return, Nigel's presence notwithstanding. As he moved, he chatted—briefly, to his relief after the Weasleys—with several men, always conscious of whether Draco was watching.

When he was only a few feet away, he caught his father's eye once more and smiled. Draco smiled back—surely flirtatiously, Scorpius thought—and made a gesture which Scorpius interpreted as being a signal for him to come closer. Nigel had moved off and was talking to some other guests.

"Sebastian Marbot," Scorpius introduced himself when he was near enough.

"Draco Malfoy." Draco cocked his head. "I don't believe I've seen you before?"

Scorpius shook his head. "I've only been in England a couple of weeks; I'm to do an apprenticeship in Dolohov's Magical Apparatus shop."

"So you're out of school, then?"

"Oh yes. For a year now," said Scorpius, blithely adding two years to the age of the body he wore. Or was it three? He rather thought that in Canada schooling might last a year longer, but he had failed to check on that detail. "I imagine you're quite familiar with the better parts of Wizarding society? I felt lucky to be invited here, given that I'm a stranger. I hope no one thinks I've gate crashed."

He tossed in that last statement to disarm any suspicion, assuming that anyone who had really come to a party uninvited would avoid the subject.

"I shouldn't think so." Draco looked at him speculatively. "You have a pureblood look about you."

"I believe my four-times-great-grandfather on my father's side was a Lovegood, sir. Or was he the Longbottom? That far back, I get them confused," said Scorpius easily. "The rest of the family is mostly French, Guérards and Pasquiers and Marbots; they're all in Montréal. We've only been in Winnipeg for fifty years or so."

He hadn't completely lost his father's attention with his recital of his fictitious ancestry, but Draco's interest was clearly waning. Better get him to talk about himself.

"And you, sir?" Scorpius added. "You have a pureblood look too, if I may venture to say so."

"The Malfoys reached Britain in the eleventh century," Draco told him, "and not one ever married a Muggle or a half blood."

"Impressive," murmured Scorpius. He took a half step closer to Draco and smiled, lowering his eyelashes and looking up at his father through them. "And _good_ looks, too. I hope we'll have a chance to meet again, but I suppose I'd better not monopolise you just now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

"A pleasure, yes," agreed Draco. "I always enjoy meeting such a personable young man as yourself."

As he moved away back into the crowd, Scorpius regretted that he had had to leave so quickly. He had realised that it was nearly time to take another swig of his Polyjuice, and he didn't dare let it go too long. Perhaps he would have another chance to chat with his father later tonight.

Unobtrusively he handed his glass to a house-elf and asked it where he might find the toilet. There he could sip from the flask in privacy. Disguise renewed, he continued to make the rounds of the party, coming to the conclusion that these events were as dull as he had always thought they would be. Still, a few hours of boredom ought to be worth it if he could lure his father into bed. He still wanted that, no question. Just standing next to Draco, unrecognised, and flirting with him as mildly as he had been doing had aroused him.

To his regret, he managed only another few words with Draco that evening. Nigel had reappeared and glued himself to Draco's side. Scorpius decided to view that as a good sign, if Nigel had seen him talking to Draco and become nervous. He certainly shot Scorpius several dirty looks when Scorpius said, "Hello, again," to his father.

Draco seemed pleased to see him, although with Nigel there they said little of consequence.

Soon after that, Scorpius left. He didn't dare risk not being at home when his parents returned.

The next morning he wrote Al, as he had promised.

 _Dear Al,_

 _Everything looks promising so far. I spoke with my bloke twice, and the second time his boyfriend seemed jealous. Otherwise, let me tell you, it was a boring party._

 _The Polyjuice tastes horrible but it works fine. I had to sneak off into the bathroom to drink it so no one would wonder about the flask._

 _I'll play it cool tomorrow at the Averys', as you suggested. Actually—how about if I come over to your house tomorrow afternoon? We could do some Christmas shopping maybe, and I'll just bring the Polyjuice and my dress robes with me and go to the party from there. Let me know if that won't work for you. Otherwise I'll Floo over about 1._

 _Scorpius_

Thinking about the previous night, remembering the way his father had looked at him, made Scorpius wish he didn't have to wait for another four days or more. He decided to try out the plugs he'd purchased at Wilde's, and dug them out from where he'd hidden them next to the Polyjuice.

He squirted some of the lubricant onto his palm and spread it along the length of his prick. As advertised, it was extremely slick, and warmed quickly, even giving a bit of a tingling sensation. Scorpius supposed that was due to the antiseptic qualities it also promised. He didn't use it on his arse at the moment; instead he concentrated hard and performed a wandless version of a lube and stretch charm, just for the practise. It would be useful to have that mastered in case he needed it with his father. His arsehole felt a bit funny afterward, but a quick check in the mirror showed that it looked fine, and the smaller plug slid in easily. He tested the larger one briefly, thinking that it was closer to the size of an actual prick, and was able to take it with no trouble as well.

For now, however, he returned to the smaller plug. It felt delightful in his arse, and Scorpius sat on his bed rocking back and forth as he stroked his cock and bollocks in the same rhythm. He imagined that it was his father's hand, his father's prick, and whimpered with longing, squirming to press the plug deeper inside himself. From across the room he could see himself in the mirror; if he squinted, he could imagine that it was his father he saw instead. Alternately fantasising that his father was fucking him and that he was returning the favour, Scorpius came, his arsehole contracting hard around the base of the plug as the spunk shot from his prick onto the duvet.

Utterly relaxed, he let himself roll over onto his side, after a few moments reaching a languid hand to pull out the plug. He cleaned up with a quick spell and tucked the plugs and the bottle of lube away again.

He pretended mild indifference to his parents' conversation that lunchtime, although he was secretly thrilled when his mother teased his father gently about the dark and handsome young stranger she'd seen him talking with. She had to be referring to Scorpius himself.

"He was a nice young fellow," said Draco. "From somewhere in Canada, he said. Good pureblood family, if mostly French. Here for an apprenticeship of some sort."

Scorpius's mother smiled knowingly. "I expect you feel you could teach him a good deal yourself... or perhaps I could?"

"Mm." Draco refused to reply further, which Scorpius was almost certain meant that his mother was correct but that Draco didn't want to admit it in front of their son. And it definitely was him. _Fantastic._

The next day Scorpius went with Al to Diagon Alley. They did some Christmas shopping, but Scorpius also bought a gift for Nigel. After having met his father's latest "special friend", who was less athletic than most of them, Scorpius decided that a tiepin rather than a pair of dragon-hide gloves would be a more suitable present. He could anoint the cotton in the box as well as the pin itself with the Common Cold Serum he had made to ensure that Nigel would be sufficiently exposed to it to feel unwell.

Al helped him brush the tiepin with the potion, being careful not to get any on themselves, and then wrap it. They used a Dicta-Quill to ensure the handwriting would be unrecognisable. Al thought up the scheme of having the Potter family owl take the parcel not directly to Nigel, but to the post office. Scorpius used Spellotape to stick on several Sickles for the postage, and it was done.

Then Scorpius drank a gulp of Polyjuice and changed into the fancy robes he'd brought along. His plan was to stop back at the Potters' to pick up both his ordinary clothes and the Christmas presents he'd bought earlier that day. Al promised to wait up if necessary, although since the plan was for Scorpius to flirt even more mildly than he had done on the previous occasion—"Leave him wanting more," Al said—he expected it wouldn't be that late when he returned.

The Averys' party was as dull as the Zabinis', with many of the same guests, although the food and drink were rather better. Not that he dared drink anything alcoholic. He murmured his request for pomegranate juice in a wine glass to a house-elf that he guessed had been hired in for the occasion, and looked somewhat wistfully at the punch bowl, full of a bright green concoction sending elaborate curls of steam into the air.

He could indulge in a few of the titbits that the house elves were offering, however, and nibbled on a flaky cheese twist as he waited for his drink. After that he began to circulate around the room, looking for his father. That silvery fair hair, so much like Scorpius's own, was difficult to miss. Draco didn't seem to have arrived yet. With an internal sigh, Scorpius made the best of it by trying to guess how many wizards in the room were under thirty; none looked as young as himself, that was certain. He managed to strike up a conversation with one, Lionel Meriton, who seemed to be in his late twenties. They debated the merits of the various classic Wizarding rock bands, with Scorpius supporting Stubby Boardman and the Hobgoblins and Lionel arguing for the Weird Sisters instead.

Scorpius managed to excuse himself before just before he was due to take his next dose of Polyjuice, and found a bathroom in which he could sip discreetly from his flask.

Returning to the main party, he was relieved to spot his father's familiar profile not far away. So intent was he on reaching Draco that he quite literally bumped into his mother, jostling her so that her drink spilled.

She brushed off his stammered apology with a laugh, putting a light hand on his wrist and effectively preventing his escape while she chattered at him. With horror, Scorpius realised she was flirting. Well, he had seen for himself in the past that the same type of man attracted both his parents, hadn't he? And he _was_ disguised as that sort of man. Somehow, though, it seemed far worse to have his mother, in whom he had no interest of the sort whatsoever, flirting with him, than it did to enjoy similar banter with his father.

"Draco?" His mother gave a tiny wave that caught her husband's attention and drew him to her. "Draco, this is Sebastian. From Canada, didn't you say, darling?"

Scorpius's carefully Canadian-accented, "Yes ma'am, from Winnipeg," overlapped Draco's, "I believe we met the other night at the Zabinis'."

"That's right," Scorpius replied, letting his gaze travel upward along the length of his father's body to settle on his face. "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

Perhaps Draco gave his wife a signal that Scorpius didn't see or recognise, for she murmured something and left them together.

"A pleasure to see you again, too," said Draco, with an appreciative glance at Scorpius.

"I took the liberty of trying to learn a little bit about you, Mr Malfoy," said Scorpius. "You intrigued me, you see."

"Oh?" Draco's eyebrows rose. "And what did you learn about me?"

"I discovered that your family has the knack of..." Scorpius paused a brief instant, " _coming_ out on _top_. I admire someone like that." He took a sip from his wine glass, his eyes never leaving his father's.

"Do you, now," said his father softly. "I shall hold... that... in mind."

"I hope not only in mind," murmured Scorpius with a smile.

"Not only, no." Draco seemed about to say more, when Nigel appeared at his elbow.

Scorpius took advantage of his father's lover's presence to give Draco one last inviting glance, and slipped off into the crowd. He wanted desperately to stay, as things seemed to be moving along well, but Al had advised him not to make a serious move until the third night. Al's advice _ought_ to be good. He'd managed to secure Mari Cadwallader as his girlfriend and even someone with as confirmed a disinterest in girls as Scorpius had to admit that Mari was a stunner in looks, who had brains and good nature to boot. Mari could have had her pick of any boy in their year, but Al had got her.

Scorpius stayed at the Averys' for a while longer, enjoying the delicious food, but primarily concerned to get himself into conversations with a couple of other good-looking older men whom he suspected might also be gay. He didn't flirt with any of them so much as to make promises he had no intention of keeping, just enough to sharpen any sense of rivalry his father might have.

When he returned to the Potters', Al was waiting.

"How did it go? Was he there? Did you manage to talk to him?"

"Yes he was there, I talked to him, and it went well." Scorpius grinned. "I really think this plan is going to work."

"Good." Al flopped on his bed and watched Scorpius. "How soon will the Polyjuice wear off?"

"It should be about ten more minutes."

"It's weird, you know, to see Algie standing there but know it's really you," Al remarked.

"Yeah. I'm getting used to wearing his body, but it will never feel quite right. I kind of wish that—" he caught himself in time, "this bloke didn't have such particular taste in men physically. It would be nice to know he thought I was attractive in my own person, but that could cause other problems."

"Like what?"

"Oh, well," Scorpius paused. He could hardly say _if he recognised me as his son I'm pretty sure he would refuse to have sex with me_. "If he recognised me, he'd know that I'm still in school and might not be interested," he said lamely.

"But you're of age," Al pointed out.

"I know, but the school thing is a big line to cross for some people." Scorpius shrugged. "And I don't want to wait. Anyhow, it doesn't matter since he only seems to go for the more muscular, dark haired type."

"So, you'll pull this bloke and get the yen out of your system, and then move on to someone who'll like you as you, physically," said Al contemplatively. "Or—wait a minute—if you timed everything just right, you _could_ let the Polyjuice wear off while you were with him. See what happens."

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"You weren't planning on more than a one night stand, were you? So it shouldn't matter if he were upset afterward. And who knows? Maybe he would like the real you, too."

Appropriately enough, just then the Polyjuice wore off and Scorpius went through the momentary agony of resuming his own shape. He shuddered.

"Don't think I want to have that happen with someone else around to see it," he commented. "I can't think it looks very attractive. It certainly _feels_ awful enough."

Al shrugged. "It didn't bother me, although of course I was expecting it." He chewed his lip for a moment and eyed Scorpius thoughtfully. "Do you happen to know what House this fellow was in, if he went to Hogwarts? It just occurred to me that a Slytherin might well admire the cunningness of your strategy, or a Ravenclaw its cleverness."

"Maybe he would, but I'm not sure I want to risk that," said Scorpius, avoiding giving an answer to the question of House. "Well, I suppose I'd better get back; my parents knew I was visiting you tonight, but if I beat them home then I won't have any questions to answer."

He quickly changed back into his own clothes and tucked the dress robes into a carrier bag with his Christmas purchases.

"Let me know how the final stage goes," said Al.

"Of course."

They went down to the Potters' living room and Scorpius Flooed home.

He had a lot to think about over the following two days before his parents' party. He turned over in his head Al's suggestion about letting the Polyjuice wear off while he was with his father, but concluded that the timing would be too tricky. He wouldn't want to go through the transformation while they were actually having sex, Merlin knew, only afterward. Which brought up the related question of just what kind of sex, exactly, was he hoping for?

As host, his father was unlikely to be willing to be absent from party for longer than fifteen, perhaps twenty minutes at the outside. That rather limited the possibilities. Whatever they did, it would have to be short and the point. Scorpius loved the thought of having his father's cock inside him, or his father's mouth on his prick, but he would settle for a hand job if that was all he could get. He decided, though, to be prepared with the best lube and stretch spell that he knew, to facilitate matters. Or—he gave a delighted shiver of excitement at the thought—it _was_ possible that his father would want Scorpius to be the one topping. When his thoughts reached that point, he had to stop and have a wank, because he couldn't very well have dinner with his grandparents if his prick was too stiff to let him walk normally.

The relief it brought him was short lived. At dinner his father mentioned casually that he expected Scorpius to be present at the party the following evening.

"Since it will be here, in our own home, I think it would be a good idea for you to be there and be introduced to some of the family friends who may only remember you as a child," said Draco.

Scorpius was horrified. How could he possibly manage his planned seduction wearing Algie's body, if he had to be visibly present in his own? Wild ideas about convincing Al to pose as himself flitted through his mind. He did still have some unfinished Polyjuice, and could use one of his own hairs to complete it.

Luckily his mother rescued him once again.

"Even at home, he'll be bored, Draco," she pointed out. "Besides..." She gave a meaningful nod.

Scorpius had no idea what she might be referring to. Nor, it seemed, did his grandparents, which was probably the point. His father evidently understood.

"A compromise? How about if Scorpius attends the party for, say, the first hour? Then he can go off to his room or whatever he likes," said Draco.

"That's all right with me," Scorpius said, with relief, and the conversation turned to the expected guests and reminiscences of previous years.

On the next, after careful consideration, Scorpius decided that it would be best if he wanked late in the afternoon. That would take the edge off his anticipation, and he hoped give him better control if he was successful when the time came. It was far enough ahead, however, that he was certain he would have no trouble becoming aroused again later.

Accordingly, he locked himself into his room at four-thirty and pulled out the smaller of the two plugs he'd bought at Wilde's. Then he reconsidered. Although he hadn't been noticeably sore after his previous time using the plug, he didn't want to risk overdoing it today, not when he hoped to have an actual prick in his arse tonight. With only a twinge of regret he replaced it, keeping out only the lube.

Scorpius stripped down and spread himself out on his bed. He stroked his hands over his chest, pretending that it was his father touching him instead. Glancing caresses to his thighs and prick soon had him hard. The lube slicked his cock with delightful slipperiness, making Scorpius hum in pleasure as he jerked himself with quick short strokes. He made a circle of his thumb and forefinger and fucked that; it was nothing like the real thing would be, of course, but the closest he could manage.

Imagination provided enough stimulation to overcome any deficiencies in reality. Scorpius came hard, hips jerking, a groan tearing from his throat. He lay trembling with the aftershock for long moments before he rose. He made sure to cast a thorough cleaning spell and put the lube away again. It was just possible that someone might take a look at his room that night. Normally he would have left everything to the house elves, but they were all so busy preparing the house for the party that he wasn't sure whether any of them would check his room before the event.

He bathed then, and pulled on his formal green dress robes.

It was still hours before the party was to begin, but the experience of previous years had taught Scorpius that if he was hungry the practical course was to go directly to the kitchen and request a sandwich, or even make his own. He was careful not to spill anything. It probably would have been wiser to wear ordinary clothes until just before the party, but he was already going to have to change to the scarlet robes that suited Algie's body after taking the Polyjuice, and he didn't fancy putting on one set of dress robes for just an hour before shifting to the other.

Hunger assuaged, he wandered back to the living room in time to see a post owl arrive for his father. Draco read the note and said, half to himself, "Nigel's unwell and won't be coming tonight."

Scorpius wanted to assure him flirtatiously that this didn't mean _Draco_ would not be coming, but remembered in time that he was not yet in disguise.

"I see you're ready. Good. You can go over to your grandparents' wing now if you like," said Draco in a distracted tone.

"I have to be there for an hour from when the party officially begins, right?" Scorpius asked. At his father's nod, he said, "I'll wait. It'll be dull enough when people are there, and worse to hang about with just Grandmother and Grandfather."

"Now, you know they enjoy spending time with you," said his father.

Scorpius shrugged. "Grandmother is probably still having Mittsy do her hair or else and getting dressed, just as Mother is."

"Wait, then. Read your book or whatever you'd like." Draco himself stood and looked out the window, his profile highlighted by the flickering light thrown by the fire and the candles. Rather than reading, Scorpius surreptitiously watched him, and felt the familiar yearning. Tonight, he promised himself, that desire would be fulfilled.

A few minutes before eight, Scorpius's mother appeared in a swirl of silk and diamonds and expensive perfume. "This is the unfortunate thing about being hosts," she complained, "that one has to be on time rather than fashionably late. I'm sure Binny didn't finish my hair properly."

"It looks lovely, as do you," Draco assured her, bowing with a flourish and kissing her hand. "Scorpius and I are both ready. Shall we go?"

The three of them together walked down the hallway to the senior Malfoys' rooms, arriving to mutual admiration between the two women as to the perfection of their gowns and more formal greetings between the men. Scorpius accepted the compliment of his grandmother on his own appearance and stoically resolved to make the best of the hour he was forced to be here in his own person. He would eat some of the appetizers at any rate, which looked even better than those at the Averys'. The smell of them made his stomach growl despite his earlier sandwich.

After just a couple of canapés, though, Scorpius discovered he could eat no more; he was too tense with anticipation to swallow. Moreover, the guests began to arrive and he had to stand obediently in line after his grandparents and parents to greet them. He was amused when wizards with whom he had flirted at the previous parties came in, some of them with wives on their arms, but he didn't permit himself to show it. He merely shook or bowed over hands and murmured platitudes.

At last his mother told him he could go, and take a plate of goodies upstairs with him if he liked, since the house elves would be too busy with the party to attend to him. Scorpius did, not wanting to arouse any parental suspicious, although he was certain he wouldn't eat them.

Once safely in his room, he set the plate aside and brought out the flask of Polyjuice. Guests were still trickling in, and he didn't want Sebastian to be conspicuously late. The stuff tasted as nasty as ever. Scorpius considered his tactics. He probably would not have a chance to make a move on his father immediately; he had better plan to take another sip of potion just before trying to talk with Draco. Putting on the clean scarlet robes, he tucked the flask into a pocket, smoothed his hair in the mirror, and as a final touch Disillusioned himself. It would never do if, in this body, he were seen wandering about Malfoy Manor unaccompanied.

Scorpius hid behind the enormous Christmas tree in the front hall and waited for a moment when no one was arriving to un Disillusion himself. Then, bold as brass, he went in to the party to be welcomed by his family. There was an awkward moment when his grandfather started to ask him who he was, but his father leaned over and greeted him by name, effectively telling Lucius that Sebastian was an invited guest. Scorpius gave his father a grateful smile, and tried to put a flirtatious sparkle in his eye.

"I couldn't stay away," he murmured. "I hope you don't mind my turning up like this."

"Not at all." Draco's smile in return was knowing. "I am flattered. I shall see you later."

Scorpius nodded and moved on.

He was more comfortable here than at either of the previous two parties. Partly it was that he now knew what they were like, and was less nervous about his ability to maintain his disguise and his false accent, and partly because this time it was his own house and everything was familiar. As before, he did his best to circulate and mingle, flirting a little bit now and again, aware that his father was probably watching. After an hour and his next dose of Polyjuice, Scorpius sought Draco out.

"Thank you again for not showing me up as a gate crasher."

"You're welcome." Draco tilted his head and regarded Scorpius with hooded eyes. "Tell me, though, were you a legitimate guest at the Zabinis' and the Averys'?"

"I was invited, yes," Scorpius answered honestly. It was true, he had been—as his parents' son. Not as Sebastian Marbot.

"Ah." His father seemed slightly disappointed.

"Although had I known ahead of time that _you_ would be there, I would have attended regardless of whether I was invited or not," said Scorpius.

"Would you have?" Draco took a step closer, so that their bodies were almost touching. Scorpius could smell the scent his father always used.

"Oh yes." Feeling greatly daring, Scorpius touched his father's hand,.

Draco's fingers closed around his wrist. "I do believe you're telling the truth, not just trying to flatter me."

Scorpius used his father's grip on him pull Draco in return, making him lean so that Scorpius could whisper in his ear, "Of course I am. I told you, I'm here just for you, nothing else." His cock was stone hard against his stomach already from sheer proximity to his father. Draco's lips parted as if to kiss him, but his father evidently thought better of that, surrounded as they were by other people, here in Malfoy Manor.

"You see that door?" Draco nodded toward it, a door that Scorpius knew led into his grandfather's library. "Slip through there, then out the other door of that room into the hallway. I'll meet you there in three minutes."

Stiff legged, Scorpius made his way across the room and out without attracting any notice. He pressed the heel of his hand against his erection through his robes, willing himself to keep control, before continuing as directed into the hallway.

His father was already there. He led Scorpius quickly upstairs to the room that Scorpius knew had been Draco's in childhood. Well, that was appropriate in its own way, he supposed, and certainly better here than in his grandparents' rooms, or on a sofa or some such.

As his father shut the door and turned to him, Scorpius told himself firmly to stop trembling. This was, after all, what he had wanted, what he had planned and worked months for. Then his father touched him and coherent thought fled.

His father's hand cupped around his chin, tilting it up so that their lips met in a lingering kiss. In his own body Scorpius was as tall as Draco, but wearing Algie's he was several inches shorter. He found it an agreeable sensation to be smaller than his partner, giving him a feeling of being cherished. His father's tongue darted into his mouth, exploring, prodding him to do likewise. He made a sound in the back of his throat and Draco broke away.

"We haven't much time."

"I know," said Scorpius. He sank to his knees and reached for his father's robes. It might seem over-forward or impatient, but they both wanted this, so there was no point in playing games when minutes were precious.

Draco helped by undoing the top buttons as Scorpius worked on those lower down, until his robes were open all down the front and Scorpius could nuzzle at his father's prick. It jutted out from a nest of crisp fair curls, stiff and flushed with blood, a bead of moisture forming at the tip. Scorpius heard his father exhale as he took it into his mouth, and Draco adjusted his stance a little wider, his hands threading into Scorpius's hair.

He took in all he could and more, choking slightly when the head hit the back of his throat. Backing off a little, he used his fingers to massage the base while he sucked and licked. His father seemed to enjoy it, caressing Scorpius's head as he worked, and giving the occasional soft grunt.

"Up, Sebastian," murmured Draco after several minutes. "Delightful though that is, I've had my eye on your arse since we met, and I don't want to miss my chance."

Scorpius gave one last lick to Draco's dripping cock and sat back on his heels, murmuring the stretching charm that he'd practised. He stood up and crossed to the bed, hiking his own robes up to his waist and bending over the edge of the mattress to brace his forearms on it, looking back over his shoulder with a flirtatious smile. "I'm ready for you."

Draco probed his hole briefly with a finger. Then Scorpius felt ahead of his father's cock breach him.

"Oh, Merlin, you're tight," Draco murmured. "So lovely."

Scorpius gasped. Despite having tried out the plugs, he was unprepared for how overwhelming it was to have a real live cock—his _father's_ cock—penetrating him fully for the first time. It burned, but there was pleasure too, and the knowledge that it was his father taking him like this made the pleasure outweigh anything else. Scorpius rocked back to meet each thrust, disregarding the discomfort, focused on the fact that _he_ was going to bring his father to a climax.

Draco's left hand was on Scorpius's hip, and his right reached around to manipulate Scorpius's prick. Skilled fingers stroked and tugged, coaxing Scorpius up to ecstasy.

"Come on, then, come for me." A delicate twist of Draco's thumb, and Scorpius did, eyes squeezed shut, mouth opening in a silent O as he wetted his father's fingers with his release.

Draco still thrusting into him. A few last deep strokes, and he too achieved his climax. When he pulled back, Scorpius could feel that a trickle of semen followed, tickling its way down over his perineum and bollocks.

Slowly he stood up, his robes falling to cover the lower half of his body once again, and looked a little shyly at his father. He was unsure what to do now. Did grown men kiss, at the end of an encounter like this? Did they speak? If so, what did they say?

Draco pulled out his wand and cast a cleaning charm, first on himself and then on Scorpius, before refastening his robes. "I had best get back," he said, and crossed over to the door, where he paused with his hand on the handle and turned. "Owl me."

"It'll be my pleasure," said Scorpius to his father's retreating back.

That was a complication that neither he nor Al had thought of. There was no such person as Sebastian Marbot, so if Draco tried to owl _him_ , he would be unsuccessful. And how was Scorpius going to manage things if his father wanted, as this seemed to imply, more than a single encounter?

Oh, well, he would sort that out tomorrow. Maybe Al would have some ideas. For now he would simply go back to his room and let the Polyjuice wear off.

Unfortunately Al had no clever ideas about how to permit communication between Scorpius and the object of his desire, none that were feasible without giving up his disguise or at least letting it be known that he was in disguise. If he really were Sebastian, Draco could reasonably expect to get in touch either via owl post or Floo call. Al suggested that Scorpius could borrow Al's aunt Hermione's Proteus charm and use it on a pair of linked objects that Scorpius and Draco could use to communicate privately, but Scorpius was sure that his father would be suspicious about the need to use such a method of communication. Even more than twenty years after the downfall of Voldemort, both Draco and his parents were wary of doing anything that might again bring the family under suspicion.

Not that Scorpius could explain all that to Al, not without saying just who it was he'd seduced. He did point out that the idea didn't cope with the problem of getting in contact again to set up the charmed objects in the first place.

Al said in frustration, "Well, then, you'll either have to owl this bloke to tell him you can't see him again, or else you'll have to confess that you're in disguise, whether or not you go further and tell him your real identity."

"I suppose I can tell him I'm using Polyjuice," Scorpius finally decided. "I could still claim my false identity as Sebastian... or no, I couldn't, because there'd still be the problem of post owls not finding someone who doesn't really exist. Bugger." He really wanted to repeat last night's experience, now that his father's request made it seem possible.. "I suppose I could owl him and suggest a time and place to meet, say that he needn't reply, and hope for the best."

"Whoever he is, he must have been quite something." Al's voice was a little wistful, despite the fact that Scorpius knew he was very happy with Mari and wasn't interested in men anyhow.

"He is," agreed Scorpius, ignoring Al's hint to identify his partner. "Want to help me write this note? I'll use a public post owl to send it later this afternoon; I have a little more Christmas shopping I have to do in Diagon Alley anyhow."

"No, I'd better be going home. I told Mari I'd have tea at her house and meet her parents," said Al.

"Must be serious, then."

"I suppose, yeah, it is," said Al. "Not like we're engaged or anything yet though. This is more like a holiday tea anyhow, I think, with a lot of her relatives and her parents' friends there. Sort of like your parents' party last night, only not so formal."

"Hopefully less boring, too," said Scorpius.

Alone again, he drafted and discarded several versions of a note before finally writing simply:

 _Dear Draco,_ [and how odd it felt to address his father that way!]

 _Thank you for being so welcoming of me last night._

 _I should very much like to see you again. I will be at the Leaky Cauldron on Saturday afternoon, at three. I hope to see you there. No reply is necessary._

 _Sebastian_

Scorpius sealed the note and put it in his pocket. He went downstairs to tell his mother that he was off to do some last holiday shopping.

"How was the rest of the party?" he asked.

"It went off very well." She arched her back in a stretch and patted back a yawn with delicate fingers. "I had delightful encounters with a number of people, and so did your father, I believe."

"Good," muttered Scorpius, not wanting to hear further details. "I'll see you later."

He hurried out of the room and Apparated into Diagon Alley. First he sent off his letter. Then he made his way slowly along the street, stopping to peer into various shop windows. He looked longingly at the Meteor 1200 in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, hoping that his parents would guess that he would love it as a Christmas present. His father flew for fun and exercise most weekends; perhaps a pair of dragon-hide riding gloves or a warm scarf in Slytherin colours would make a good Christmas gift for him? For his mother Scorpius had already found a gift set of bath salts and oils and he wasn't sure what all else, except that everything was scented with jasmine and to do with bathing somehow.

With the gloves and another small item or two purchased, Scorpius went to the ice cream parlour to indulge himself. The owner, Florean Fortescue, was a twitchingly nervous elderly man, but his ice cream was delicious. Scorpius alternated bites of it with sips of hot cocoa; the combination made his mouth tingle pleasantly. He licked his lips and thought about how he'd sucked his father off the night before, and how much he wanted to do it again.

The wait until Saturday seemed interminable, but at last it arrived.

Scorpius was Polyjuiced and at the Leaky Cauldron thirty minutes early, having dashed into Madam Malkin's and acquired an outfit for his borrowed body that was less formal than the dress robes. After some thought, he had decided to secure one of the upstairs rooms; he had ample saved from his pocket money, even after buying all those clothes and Christmas presents, and that would ensure that they had somewhere discreet to go. When he went up to take a quick look at it, the room was clean enough if otherwise shabby. Scorpius didn't care. That wasn't what he needed it for. He took another sip of Polyjuice, put the key into his pocket, and went back down to wait.

His father was nearly fifteen minutes late. Scorpius had begun to think he wasn't going to turn up at all when Draco took the chair opposite him.

"Hello, Sebastian."

Scorpius's heart beat faster. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy. It's good to see you again," he made himself say calmly. "I wasn't sure if you would make it."

If he'd been hoping for an apology or even a word of explanation, he was disappointed. Draco raised his hand, and immediately the barman was there.

"Yes, sir?"

"Vodka tonic," Draco told him, and said nothing else until he had his drink. "You intrigue me," he said then.

"Oh?"

"You're a difficult man to track down."

His father's gray eyes revealed nothing. Had Draco tried to owl him? Or find out more about the nonexistent Sebastian Marbot? Scorpius felt a moment of panic. "Oh, surely not," he said, his tone as bantering as he could make it. "Here I am, right in front of you."

Draco barely smiled. "True enough, I suppose." He sipped at his drink. "My family has its share of ill wishers, you understand. I have to be careful."

"I understand," said Scorpius, relieved. "Very prudent of you." Carefully, so as not to kick his father by accident, he drew the top of his foot along Draco's calf. "But I'm glad that you don't feel it necessary to be so cautious as not to come today."

"Oh, I never had any intention of _not coming_ ," his father said with a little twist to his lips.

"Excellent." Scorpius kept his voice low. "I wasn't sure what you might want to do, so I have a room upstairs."

"Very forward thinking of you," said Draco with approval. "No hurry, is there?"

"No, of course not," said Scorpius, a statement which was not entirely true. He would have to keep an eye on the time, to make sure he took his next dose of Polyjuice before the present one wore off, and if he got home later than half past six or so he might be in trouble, but those hazards were trifling compared to this opportunity.

"Good." Draco settled back into his chair. He had thrown his fine wool coat over its back, and now he absently picked up his leather gloves, smoothed them out, and laid them down again along the edge of the table. The bones of his face caught the light, creating the illusion of hollowness in his cheeks, a look that enhanced his aristocratic appearance, in Scorpius's view at any rate. He had always been proud of his father's looks and bearing, so well suited to his position, and now he felt an even greater glow at the thought that it was himself whose company Draco was enjoying.

Draco began to speak, telling Scorpius about himself, most of it information that Scorpius already knew. That meant that he didn't have to pay terribly close attention, but could nod and smile and interject the occasional encouraging murmur. Gradually he became aware of an undercurrent in what his father was saying, not so much the meaning as the tone. Had he not known his father as well as he did, he would not have noticed it; as it was, it was only with great surprise that he realised that Draco was nervous. _Why?_ He had had more lovers than Scorpius could count, so certainly this type of situation could not be unfamiliar. It _was_ fairly public, true, but the two of them had been seen talking together at several different parties this past week, and they could quite easily have run into each other while shopping and decided to stop for a drink and a chat. Perhaps he was reading his father wrong, and it was not nervousness but something else entirely.

It was nearly time to take the Polyjuice again. Scorpius excused himself to the men's loo, and asked if he could get his father another drink on the way back to the table. That would allow him to get something non-alcoholic for himself without comment.

"Another of these, if you would," said Draco.

When Scorpius brought the drinks back to the table, his father reached out and laid his fingers against Scorpius's wrist. They were somehow warm and cool at once, and Scorpius felt a shiver run all through him. Hastily he took a sip of his hot spiced cider.

"Now. Tell me about yourself, Sebastian."

Scorpius was grateful for all the time he had spent practising both his Canadian accent and the story he had concocted for his false identity. Draco drew him out, question by question, his gray eyes intent on Scorpius. He still retained a loose grip on Scorpius's wrist, one finger resting against the pulse point as if to gauge the level of Scorpius's excitement.

He _was_ excited. The touch, the intimacy of their conversation, this sheer knowledge of the taboo he was breaking for a second time, all conspired to bring Scorpius to a fever pitch of arousal by the time that Draco said, "I believe you indicated you have a room?"

"Yes." Scorpius swallowed. "Number eight."

"You go up. I'll be along in a few minutes."

That made sense. His father would want to be discreet in such a public place. Scorpius went up the narrow stairs alone. He took advantage of the opportunity to take another dose of Polyjuice. There was only one straight wooden chair in the room, and nothing else to sit on except the bed. When his father arrived, Scorpius hovered uncertainly in the middle of the room; he had taken off his shoes but nothing else.

"Let me," Draco murmured.

He took his time removing Scorpius's clothing, stroking his skin as it was exposed, walking around him when he was naked and giving an extra caress to his buttocks. Scorpius whimpered, resisting the urge to grab his achingly hard cock and bring himself off at once.

"You _are_ lovely, aren't you?" Draco's hands parted his cheeks gently. "I didn't get to see you properly last time, you know."

"You're seeing all you want now, I hope?" Scorpius gasped as his father's finger rubbed a circle around his arsehole. He heard Draco mutter something. It must have been a lubricating charm rather than a reply, because suddenly his arse felt slick and Draco's finger slipped inside him. "Oh!"

"Like that, don't you?" Draco's voice held a note of amusement. "So do I." He pulled his finger away and stepped around to where Scorpius could see him. "But I suspect that in your present state, you wouldn't last five strokes if I asked you to fuck me, would you?"

Scorpius didn't dare lie, lest his father call him on it and he fail. He shook his head miserably.

"That's all right." To his surprise, Draco chuckled. "I was young once myself. But if you came now, you'd be ready again in twenty or thirty minutes, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Scorpius promised, assuming that his borrowed body would respond as quickly as he knew his own could.

"Then let's help you along. Come over here to the bed. I want to watch you touch yourself, make yourself come for me."

"Will you undress while I do it, so that I can see you, sir?" The "sir" just popped out, but Draco seemed unsurprised.

"If you like." He didn't show off or turn his disrobing into anything like a striptease, but removed each item of clothing in a matter-of-fact manner as Scorpius watched, dry mouthed. He had not had a very good look the previous time, being then focused on sucking his father's prick, but now he saw that for a man of his age, Draco was in excellent physical condition. His long fair hair spilled over his shoulders. His chest was covered in equally pale springy curls, matched by those at his groin. In between, his stomach was flat and firm, and his arms and legs well muscled. Altogether he was a feast for Scorpius's eyes.

"Touch yourself," Draco reminded him.

With a start, Scorpius wrapped his right hand around his cock, pumping it with steady strokes. As Draco had known, he was already so aroused that it was scarcely a minute before the friction caused the heat inside him to boil up, ropy strands of spunk spurting from his cock and splattering onto the floor between himself and his father.

"That's right, oh yes, lovely," crooned his father. When Scorpius's orgasm had finished he embraced him, pressing their bodies together so that Draco's firm erection nudged Scorpius's flagging one.

They tumbled down onto the bed, which creaked loudly. Draco scowled.

"That won't do." He reached a long arm to pluck his wand from his discarded clothing, and cast a silencing charm on the bed, then as an afterthought on the room at large.

Scorpius smiled at the look of satisfaction on his father's face as Draco turned back to him and began to kiss him with deliberate sensuousness, his hand exploring Scorpius's body meanwhile. Scorpius let his eyes fall closed and kissed back. They were not rushed now, and Draco was far more skilled than any of the handful of boys Scorpius had kissed at school. He gave himself up to it, head tipping back as Draco kissed down his throat to the hollow of his neck, then further, lapping at each nipple in turn. When Draco blew out a breath over the wet skin, Scorpius felt them draw up into crinkled points, his cock stirring in response again too. Draco brushed his stomach briefly, then lay on his back, clearly inviting Scorpius to explore his body likewise.

Without hesitation Scorpius did so. The scent of his father's skin as he nuzzled over Draco's chest, even daring to lap at the tender and ticklish spots under his arms, brought back Scorpius's memories of childhood, when he had occasionally been held on Draco's lap and snuggled close against him. He wished for a moment that he were in his own body, that Draco had smelled Scorpius's own scent, but he reminded himself that if that were the case, none of this would be happening at all. He pushed away the regret by concentrating on kissing and licking and even nipping at Draco's body, lavishing extra attention on any spot where Draco seemed to be particularly sensitive. Draco allowed him to do whatever he chose, watching him the whole time, yet Scorpius felt neither patronised nor judged; the look Draco was giving him was one of warm appreciation, and the murmurs he made were of pleasure.

On his journey around his father's body, Scorpius ignored Draco's prick until the very end. When at last he reached it, like a bee circling a flower and finally diving for the tempting center, the taste was just as he remembered: musky, with a hint of bitterness from the pre come oozing from the slit, but most of all distinctly and uniquely _Draco_. He sighed in satisfaction and began seriously to suck his father off.

As before, however, Draco did not allow Scorpius to bring him to orgasm that way.

"Sebastian."

It took several seconds for Scorpius to respond, less because of the unfamiliarity of his false name and more because he didn't want to relinquish Draco's cock from his mouth.

" _Sebastian._ Enough now. Ride me."

"What?"

"Ride me," Draco repeated. "Get that lovely tight arse of yours around my cock and ride me."

Scorpius scrambled to obey. His arsehole was still slick from the lubrication Draco had applied earlier, but it took a good deal of effort for Scorpius to relax enough to open up to Draco's prick. He winced as he settled down, kneeling with one knee to either side of his father's body. He flexed his legs to raise himself up an inch or two, and sank back again.

"Like this? Do you like this?"

"I do indeed, Sebastian, I do indeed. You've a lovely tight arse, as I said; yes, like that," he added as Scorpius shifted slightly to allow Draco's prick to penetrate him more deeply still. He leaned forward a fraction, and twisted, and— _there_ , yes, _that_ was the angle that made it all feel so good. He caught his breath and began to ride Draco in earnest, watching his father's face just as Draco had watched him.

There was a sheen of sweat across Draco's flushed skin, and his breath had speeded up. Scorpius caught a glint from one of his father's rings as Draco's hand clutched the bed's coverlet.

"Yes, come on, you feel so good," Scorpius encouraged him, without thinking that the sooner his father came, the sooner this encounter would end. He only knew that more than anything else at that moment he yearned to see his father's expression in orgasm. "Come on, yeah, that's right, fill me!"

Draco's climax was sudden—a parting of the lips, a stiffening of the body, a gasp. The hot cream of his spunk warmed Scorpius's arse, although the quiver of his prick had been lost in Scorpius's own movements.

He watched the flush fade from Draco's face and chest before his father opened his eyes.

"Mmm. Very nice indeed."

"Thank you," said Scorpius awkwardly, not sure what an appropriate response would be.

"I've had _you_ twice now. I think it's time for you to fuck _me_."

Scorpius had only ever had his cock inside another bloke's arse once, with Damien Queensberry. They had both been so nervous and excited that Scorpius had gotten maybe an inch and a half in when Damien screeched and Scorpius came. So really, he wasn't sure it counted.

His father was watching him, waiting for a response.

"Er. Wh what position would you like?" stammered Scorpius, just barely remembering to put on his Canadian accent.

"Like this." Draco rolled over, mostly onto his back but a little to his right, and lifted his left knee, grabbing onto it with his hand to hold it up.

Inwardly Scorpius rejoiced. Even if he was in disguise, he liked the idea that his father would watch him come with his prick buried in his father's arse. He wriggled down and positioned himself.

"Ready?"

"Of course." Draco's eyes closed as Scorpius pushed slowly inside, then fluttered open again. "That's good. Now move!"

Scorpius didn't, not right away, needing to hold still to regain control. When his father repeated, " _Move_ , damn it!" he finally did, slowly to begin with, but soon picking up the pace. His father's arse was tight and hot around his prick, slippery with lube, and nothing Scorpius had experienced in his life had ever felt quite so good as this. He made a fist of his left hand, fingernails cutting into his palm, to distract himself enough to keep from coming.

"Mm, yeah baby, pound into me," Draco commanded. "Fill me, fuck me, oh yeah, come on, yeah..."

He kept murmuring a stream of filthy encouragement—Scorpius would never have guessed that his father would be so vocal during sex, but Scorpius mostly tuned out the sound, focusing instead on watching his father's face and feeling his father's touch.

"Now, come on baby, come for me, that's right," and Draco squeezed his arse around Scorpius's cock.

That was it; Scorpius came with a strangled cry, his spunk shooting deep into his father's body.

He collapsed into his father's embrace, his ragged breathing slowing as Draco held him and stroked his back.

"Now," said Draco, "do you care to tell me who you really are?"

Frightened, Scorpius tried to pull away, but Draco's arms held him tightly. "What do you mean?" he tried to bluff.

"Polyjuice. Don't lie to me; I know that's what you've been using. My father is justly suspicious of all strangers, and the family home bristles with various spells and devices to identify anyone who is not what he seems to be."

Scorpius kept quiet, his mind racing. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ He should have known that his father would realise he wasn't really Sebastian Marbot from Winnipeg, sooner or later. If he could just get Draco to turn him loose, he could Apparate out of here. He didn't dare try it with Draco touching him, though; he might easily make a mistake and bring Draco along with him. _Shit._

"You might as well tell me," Draco's voice was patient. "Your hour must be nearly up by now. All I need to do is wait, and I'll find out regardless."

"Promise you won't tell." Scorpius's voice cracked. He was sure that he couldn't get his father to agree to more than one condition, and he would prefer secrecy to a promise of no anger. "You're not going to like the answer, but promise you won't tell."

Holding Scorpius's shoulders, Draco pushed him to arms' length and studied him carefully. "All right," he agreed. "Now. For the last time, _who are you?_ "

"I..." Scorpius's throat closed. He swallowed hard and said, "I'm Scorpius. Your son."

Draco's eyebrows rose, but he showed no other visible reaction, only renewed his grip on Scorpius's arm and said, "We'll see."

The next few minutes passed in silence. Twice Scorpius started to say something, but he couldn't find the right words. All of the vaunted cleverness of Ravenclaw appeared to have deserted him in this crisis.

Even as the Polyjuice began to wear off and Scorpius writhed with the pain of his flesh reshaping itself, Draco did not let go. At last Scorpius lay there in his own body, but his father merely looked at him, expressionless.

"I... I wanted you, you've no idea how much, but I knew that even if I weren't your son, I'm not the sort of bloke you fancy," Scorpius tried to explain.

"No one put you up to this?" The words were deathly quiet.

"No!" Scorpius struggled to sit up, glaring with indignation. "It was my own idea, all of it. Well, Al helped me plan, but he had no idea who it was that I was after, I swear to god."

"On your honour as a Malfoy?"

"On my honour as a Malfoy," said Scorpius. " _Please_ , Father."

Draco flinched. "I was your first?"

"Yes," Scorpius admitted. "I've known I was gay for over two years now, but at school—well, you went to Hogwarts. It hasn't changed that much since you were there."

Draco let out a long sigh. "I feel as though I should have known, somehow."

"What, that I was gay, or that it was me tonight?"

"Both, I suppose." Draco sighed again. He had let go of Scorpius by now, and reached for his wand almost absently to cast cleaning charms.

"You see, when I was about your age..." He chewed his lower lip for a second, glancing sideways at Scorpius. "I felt very much the same way about _my_ father, only I never managed to act on those feelings successfully the way you have."

" _What?_ " Scorpius's mouth fell open. He closed it, thinking furiously. That meant that his father...

Draco had continued speaking. "After a while, I refused to acknowledge how I felt even to myself any longer. I wouldn't permit myself be attracted to men who resembled him in any way, lest anyone guess my secret."

Scorpius breathed faster. "Father."

His father was silent. Scorpius moved nearer, inch by inch, until with trepidation he brushed Draco's lips with his own.

A moment's hesitation and Draco was kissing him back, hungrily, with even greater insistence than when he had thought Scorpius was Sebastian. No one else could ever know, Scorpius knew that, but it was all right. _This_ was what was meant to be, for them both.

The next day he wrote a quick note.

 _Dear Al,_

 _Thanks for all of your help and advice in my little matter. Having succeeded in my aims twice, I have decided that Sebastian will now make a graceful exit. He served his purpose, and it's time to move on._

 _If we don't meet up again over the holidays, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express. Happy Christmas!_

 _Scorpius_

He sealed the letter and gave it to the family owl. Al would get it later that day. In the meantime, Scorpius went downstairs. The Christmas season was a time to spend with family.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Daily Deviant's Kinky Kristmas 2010, for elfflame.


End file.
